


If I Knew Another Way

by theoreticalpixy



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Prequel, Unrequited, friend fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticalpixy/pseuds/theoreticalpixy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gift before Thor's travels to Midgard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Knew Another Way

**Author's Note:**

> Minor spoilers to Avengers, I suppose. Nothing major, all pre Thor's appearance in the film.

Thor looks up when he hears the footsteps. A light click of boot and part of him knows his visitor before they enter his sight.

“Sif,” he calls out to greet as she nears. She’s a welcome presence, though few have been such of late. The news of his brother and subsequent readying have weighed heavy on Thor's mind. He has been too dour, too angry, since it all began. The burden is a shade easier with a friendly and trusted face. 

“Thor,” she returns with the slightest incline of head. Her pace quickens an increment and he does not push for more words.

“Here.” Sif thrusts a parcel into Thor’s hands without pretense once she is near. “Take them and use them.”

“What is this?” he asks, staring down at the thing now in his hands. Thor tears the cloth wrapping away to reveal a set of bracers, red and metal woven. They are fine things, dwarven made if he would guess. It seemed an odd thing to be given and she must catch the questioning look on his face.

“If you are going to be bashing about without sleeves you should have these.”

“You are one to talk,” he shot back and looked pointedly at her own bare arms. “At least I wear full armor at times. Mine are fine and in good repair,” he protests, gesturing dismissively as he holds the gift.

He does not miss the roll of her eyes.

“Yours are obvious and blatant. Here,” Sif snatches them back from his hands, “Try them,” she insists. Her face falling for a brief flicker with something he had no word for as she gestures to his wrists, “Take those off.”

“Sif-”

“Do it,” she commands, unfazed and ready to ignore his objection. Both are far too used to this battle of wills. They glare awhile, Thor’s mood rising to see her stubborn like this. It is an old standoff, without a guaranteed winner, and conjures snatches of memory from more pleasant times. Fights over silly things, fights of arrogance and youth, it all echos through him.

Eventually, with a put upon sigh, he begins to remove his armor. He is man enough to let her win this fight.

They trade the pieces around smoothly. Thor and Sif work in tandem until he wears the new set. The fit is true though he does not admit such out loud.

“There are too many joints,” he comments as he flexes and moves his wrists in them. They are made of more pieces than he is used to and they feel lighter on him. His eyes narrowed and face scrunches in thought as he considers them.

“No,” she says, “They will give you better flexibility. See how the pieces intertwine?,” her finger runs along the left one, “They will catch an attack as good as any and with less loss of range. My own are made similarly. And,” Sif pulls the guard armor, heavy and inflexible from his old pair. “They shall fit in turn.” She takes his arms and fastens the armor into place over the new bracers and he allows it, just watching as she adjusts him. She looks so intent that he cannot help but let her tend to him like this.

“Then what is the difference?” he wonders aloud.

The look she gives him is well worn and wholly skeptical of his intelligence. “Movement. And now you have a set that will look less brutish yet still remain fit for battle if you find yourself in such a state,” she explains. At his lack of response she continues confidently, “If you cannot tell the difference then your eyes are poor and you should trust mine, I had them made very specifically. Take the gift. I wish to know you are protected in this venture you undertake.” Thor thinks he catches her face going soft a moment as she insists.  


Her words settle in, the meaning of things said and unsaid, and Thor nods. “Alright, alright.” He tests them again, running hand over the guards slower this time. He glances from her to them and back, piecing things together.

“Thank you, Sif,” he doesn’t smile but the look is fond. He understands this is about more than the armor. They do not have a friendship over burdened with words, nor does Sif mother over him like this often. She is sending him with a reminder, a token of belief and trust. Thor could feel it in her stance and in her gaze now that he gives the matter thought.

He is thankful for it, for something that feels good among the maelstrom of everything else. It feels safe, feels like home. The thought hits deep in his heart so broken. He is struck with it as he looks to her, her belief in him startling and unwavering as it ever is.

They have been through so much together, perhaps this too shall merely become another story to tell in enough time. Thor leans down to kiss her forehead, hand guiding her to him. It’s impulsive, maybe too sentimental even, but he does not, or maybe cannot, stop himself.

Sif allows it. Maybe because they are in hard and wrought times. Maybe because they are old enough not to squabble over things like this anymore. They are not children constantly trying to prove themselves. Maybe she did object but knows there are times to make concessions. Whatever her reason, she does not resist and he is grateful for it.

“You will come home victorious and with your brother and the Tesseract safe in hand,” she says as he pulls back. The words are not merely platitude, he can see it in her eyes. Sif would not say them if she did not think it possible. If she did not believe in his mission. She has not always understood his love of his brother, but she supports him. And in such times, he would dare ask for no more from her.

“Go on, I shall take no more of your time,” she waves him away. Sif does not offer back what was left of his bracers that she still held, tight in a fist, and he does not try to make her.

“You shall come to see me off?” he calls as she started to walk away.

“Of course,” she assures with a smile over her shoulder.

Thor returns it. The last smile he might wear for some time. He turns back to his preparations; the heaviness settling upon him again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a product of me fixating on the differences in Thor's armor this film. In the helicarrier sequence he's wearing a different set and they reminded me of Sif's therefore this happened.


End file.
